


your eyes hold the ocean and i'm drowning in mud

by Whoops_heck



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Metaphors, Recovery, Song Lyrics, kind of shit, my bad - Freeform, other guy isn't even mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 10:20:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10919835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whoops_heck/pseuds/Whoops_heck
Summary: Tsukishima escapes a toxic relationship and Yamaguchi tries to help.





	your eyes hold the ocean and i'm drowning in mud

**Author's Note:**

> My description is trash so my bad.
> 
> -Also song lyrics are inbetween dashes like this-
> 
> Props if you know the song, it's obscure and gross bit i love it

Showing up at your front door was never part of the plan. None of this was part of any plan. I never once thought out any route to take or words to say. I just cried and knocked on your door at eleven pm.

You held me tight and told me everything was going to be alright.

 

-Well if you come inside, I promise to keep you warm.  
Sorry if I scared you, when I slammed the car door-

 

The house is clean. It's empty of furniture and free of dust. The house is new. It's crisp and clea. Corners sharp and floors prestine. It's a house, not a home. 

There's a surpisingly stark contrast between the two. 

A house is where you live.

A home is where your life happens.

A house has a bed, and a table, and windows.

A home has memories and love and laughter.

A house is not a home, 

And this is not mine.

You tell me to make myself at home.

"I'm going to take a shower but feel free to look around. The kitchens stocked with food so if you get hungry just go for it. Is there anything else you need?"

"No."

"Alrighty then."

A few minutes later I hear the stuttering of water raining down against tile.

You told me that I could live with you. Everything you told me about a new home and making a place for myself in this miserable world is complete bullshit. 

This place is cold and unfamiliar.

I'd rather be kept company by a yelling voice than to be met with complete silence.

Houses are quiet.

Homes are not

 

-But that doesn't matter now.  
You're still plastered on my walls, and I just can't bring myself to cover you  
With the bands that I don't even like at all-

 

The walls of my soul are a bleek beige. Covered in splatters of you that I can't paint over. When I drink coffee I think of where we first met. When I go for a run the familiar thudding of feet against concrete sound like the morning jogs we took togethor. I can't do anything without thinking of you.

I could cover up the memories with new ones but I do 't want to. 

I can't let go of what we had no matter how toxic it was.

 

-Cause I'm a ghost in training, Because my heart's been waning-

 

The echoe of footsteps in hallways void of life or stains is the only noise that accompanies me in my pacing. I'm sure who ever lives underneath you is pissed and I can't really blame them. 

I spend time I should be sleeping pretending that I'm alright.

Bags are embedded so deep into my eyes that it feels like i'm drowning in purple and the sorrow of a french beauty.

You tell me i'm wasting away.

I tell you I know.

 

-Because of all the shit I've been eating, I know one day my heart'll stop beating-

 

I go from not eating for days to becoming a black hole for fat and grease.

You tell me it's not healthy.

I stare at my shoes like they're the most interesting thing in the wirld.

Scuffed and stained.

They're wearing down and in a few months my toe will poke theough the front.

They're old and worn and disgusting.

But they're all I have.

I'm sorry for everything I've done and said.

I apologize for everything. Every inconvenience. Every delay because of me. Everything.

I'm not much use around here. I can't clean. I can barely cook and the most laundry I've done in two yesrs is a load and a half.

I apologise when asking you to show me again how the washing machine works.

You say it's fine.

 

-I'm sorry for every tear that's dropped.  
I'm sorry for all the times you didn't get to drive me home-

 

One night you ask me about him and I start crying.

I halt halfway through an apology and tell you I left him.

You say you're proud of me.

That it's for the best.

I don't believe you.

 

-Well if you come inside, I promise to keep you warm-

 

You wrap me in comfort and love and blankets fresh out the drier.

It's slow and painful but I can feel the posters you glued to my walls slowly begin to peel. Similair to old wallpaper or burnt skin.

As he pulls from the surface of my skin it feels as though I'm born anew.

You help me through it.

I don't deserve you. Not even remotely. No one on this god forsaken earth deserves you. 

I've been nothing but a burden and you've stuck by my side.

For that i am thankful.

For that i send out one last apology.

 

-Sorry for scaring you, for being the selfish fuck I know I am-

 

I'm sorry Tadashi.

Thank you.

I know he's not good for me and I know you can help me get better. I just miss the way his apartment felt like home.

I miss him.

I miss his anger and his glares. I miss the way I'd have to clean up hundreds of beer bottles before any company came over. I miss the way he'd hold ym hand and I miss the way he'd pin me to the wall and call me useless.

I'm sorry.

I'm going home.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment?!


End file.
